


Faith is Taking the First Step

by Pixie (Ayiana)



Category: JAG
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, ficathon entry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-21
Updated: 2008-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayiana/pseuds/Pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being separated for a month, Harm and Mac meet in Washington to see Mattie and talk with her doctors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith is Taking the First Step

Mac's footsteps slowed as she approached the room, an unexpected flare of nerves manifesting itself in a restless tug at the hem of her shirt. It had been almost a month since that fateful night at McMurphy's, a month of carefully timed telephone calls, frustrating emails, and long, lonely nights. When Harm had asked her to meet him here for the conference with Mattie's doctors she'd leapt at the invitation - not just because it meant seeing him, but because he was clearly welcoming her into his life with Mattie. It was a milestone. A wonderful—and terrifying—milestone.

"God," she whispered as she rounded the last corner and passed the nurse's station, "please don't let me screw this up."

A nearby volunteer gave her a curious look, and Mac answered with an embarrassed shake of the head. _I'm not really crazy. I only act as if I am._

"There's no way you're going to make this shot, too."

Mac stopped, a smile tugging at her lips. She knew that voice.

"A Benjamin says I do."

Her grin widened at the quick reply. _Good for you, Mattie. Go for the big bucks_.

"And she scores!" Mattie's triumphant chortle underscored Harm's groan. "You owe me a hundred dollars."

"You know what?" Harm sounded rueful now, but Mac would've bet the Benjamin in her own pocket that he was about to burst with pride. In one short month Mattie had gone from comatose to competitive. It was fantastic progress. "You're going to have to wait until payday."

"No." Mattie was obviously pleased with herself. "You either pay me now, or you come up with something better."

At that, Mac decided she'd better step in before Mattie started angling for a car.

"Will I do?" Her eyes sought and found Harm's on the other side of Mattie's bed, and for a second she forgot Mattie was there as her heart stuttered and then leapt in response to his smile.

He crossed to meet her, and she whispered his name when he pulled her close, his lips lingering against hers, his arms just a shade slow to drop away. His hand settled at her waist when he turned back to Mattie, lean fingertips pressing against her hipbone.

"What do you say, Matts? Will she do?"

Mattie grinned, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes as she watched them. "That depends." She gave Mac an assessing stare. "Can you make good on his debt?"

"Mattie!" Harm's gasp of outrage was patently fake.

Mac laughed and eased away from Harm to put her hand in her pocket, coming up with a hundred-dollar bill. But she snatched it back before Mattie could grab it. "On one condition."

"Aw come on, I earned that fair and square!"

"Uh huh."

"I did! See?" Mattie gestured at Harm, who obligingly pointed out a trashcan full of wadded up pieces of paper. Evidently they'd been at this game for a while.

"Oh, I believe you."

"Then what?"

"You have to agree to be a bridesmaid."

Mattie's smile disappeared. "No."

"Mattie …" Was that warning in Harm's voice? Cajolery? Mac wasn't sure. But Mattie was shaking her head, her jaw set.

"No way am I going down any aisle in a wheelchair."

Mac waved the bill again. "Who said anything about a wheelchair?"

Mattie's eyes went wide. "But that could take weeks!"

Mac glanced over at Harm, catching his slight nod and the look of approval in his eyes. "I guess you'd better get busy then." She tucked the hundred-dollar bill inside the cover of the algebra book on Mattie's bedside table.

Mattie looked to Harm for help and got a 'don't look at me' shrug in response. She blew out a sigh. "You're ganging up on me."

Harm shook his head. "More like motivating." He glanced at his watch. "And speaking of motivating ..." He looked at Mac. "If we don't get going, we're going to be late."

With a roll of her eyes, Mattie dropped her head back against the pillow. "Wouldn't want you to miss a chance to talk about me behind my back …"

"Doctor's idea, not ours," Harm said, ignoring her tone. "He said something about sassy teenagers who interrupt all the time."

She snorted. "Go."

"We'll be back after dinner."

"No, you won't."

Harm raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Mattie gestured at the two of them. "You haven't seen each other in almost a month." She reached for a plastic mug on the nightstand and sipped some water through the plastic straw. "I'll still be here tomorrow. It's not as if I'm going anywhere."

"We haven't seen you, either," Mac said.

"And we want to spend time with you," added Harm.

"Yeah, right." Mattie cast him a skeptical look and set the mug down. Her glance skidded uneasily across Mac's. "Besides, I've got P.T. first thing in the morning. I should get a good night's sleep if I'm going to try to walk, right?"

_She doesn't know where she fits anymore_, Mac thought suddenly. _She knows how to handle Harm, but now that I'm here, the rules have changed_. "Harm, could you give us a second?" She touched his arm and felt the slight ripple of his response. "Please."

He gave her a puzzled look, but nodded. "I'll be right outside."

"Thanks."

When the door closed behind him, Mac turned back to Mattie. Now what? How could she soothe the very real fears of a teenage girl who'd long since learned to guard her heart? She decided on the direct approach.

"I'm not a threat to you, Mattie."

Mattie dropped her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do."

When Mattie looked up, there was defiance in her eyes, but Mac could see the fear lurking behind it. "I'll be out of your way as soon as I turn eighteen."

Mac sat down on the edge of the bed. "You aren't in the way," she said gently.

Mattie laughed, but it came out brittle and strained. "Right. I forgot. Every newlywed wants a crippled teenager around."

"Is _that_ how you see yourself? As a cripple?" Mac was deliberately sharp, and Mattie flinched. "Because if that's what you truly believe, then that's all you'll ever be."

A voice sounded over the P.A. system, paging one of the doctors. Outside the window, brakes squealed and a horn blared. But Mattie remained stubbornly silent.

"Mattie … I want us to be friends."

Mattie's fingers clenched and unclenched, leaving long wrinkles in the crisp white sheet, like fault lines in a parched riverbed. When she finally looked at Mac, there were tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She gestured at the bed, her legs, the room. "I don't think this is what you signed on for."

"You're right, I didn't."

Mattie's head snapped up, her eyes wide. She hadn't expected that response.

Mac reached over and laid her hand over Mattie's restless fingers, stilling them. "I'm signing on to be a family, with all the ups and downs that go along with it." She waited for Mattie to meet her eyes. "We'll get through this, Mattie. Together."

She had to lean close to hear the hesitant response.

"It's been a long time since I've been part of a real family."

"For me, too." Mac squeezed Mattie's fingers and let them go. "I'll make you a deal," she said, keeping her tone light as she got to her feet. "We'll figure it out together."

A dimple flickered into view and then disappeared. "Well, for starters, teenagers don't get curfews anymore."

"Oh, really," Mac said, playing along. "Not at all?"

"Nope."

"I see. Anything else I should know?"

"I'll let you know as we go along," Mattie said, an impish sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"I can live with that."

Harm put his head in the door. "I hate to interrupt you ladies, but we really need to go, Mac."

"Be right there," Mac said, giving him a quick smile. She turned back to Mattie. "See you in the morning?"

Mattie shook her head. "P.T, remember? But I'd kill for a decent burger …"

"I think we can manage that."

"Mac?"

Mac turned back, her hand on the doorknob. "What?"

"Have fun tonight." Mattie flashed a conspiratorial grin.

"Mattie!" Mac laughed. "Behave yourself!" She rolled her eyes as she closed the door behind her, and she was still smiling when she looked up and found Harm watching her.

"You're beautiful when you smile." His voice was low, gruff, and obviously meant for her alone.

The compliment caught Mac off guard. She blinked. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He reached for her hand. "We should hurry."

The meeting lasted almost two hours, and by the time it was over Mac was famished. Mattie was doing well, meeting and exceeding every benchmark the staff set for her. But she still had a long way to go, and it was doubly hard for her with Harm and Mac so far away. They discussed moving her, but the doctor recommended against it until they were ready to provide a permanent home, and that time hadn't yet arrived. Uprooting her more than once would do more harm than good, so they agreed to continue on as before for another six weeks. If she worked hard, Mattie would be on her feet by then and ready for an out-patient program somewhere.

Harm was hungry too, but neither one of them felt much like sitting in a restaurant, so they stopped for Chinese takeout on the way to the hotel. The tension that had been building between them since Mac's arrival at the rehab center had reached the point where every move Harm made—every shift of muscle and whisper of indrawn breath—heightened Mac's need to touch him. When his arm brushed against hers as he opened the restaurant door, she couldn't help an involuntary flinch. His eyes lifted to hers, sexual awareness flashing between them like heat lightning.

"Harm …" Mac's voice stuck in her throat. She didn't say anything more, but she didn't have to. He knew. She could see it in his eyes. He nodded and studiously avoided touching her while he placed their order, paid, and sat down beside her to wait. The restless tapping of his foot provided scant comfort to Mac, who had to apply strict military discipline lest she embarrass them both and shock the hapless cashier. The girl, maybe sixteen, seemed to sense something amiss, eying them nervously and smiling a little too brightly when she handed over their order.

The short trip to the hotel seemed to take hours, and when the desk clerk had to run the credit card three times, Mac almost climbed over the counter to do it herself. Finally they were in the elevator, a careful distance between them, and then out again and down a long, cool hallway, past door after door, each one mocking them with the wrong room number, until at last Harm glanced down at the envelope in his hand, nodded at her, and slid the key card into the slot.

He pushed the door open and waved her in ahead of him, ever the gentleman. But she didn't need him to be a gentleman just then, and when he turned from locking the door she was standing just behind him, the food safely stowed on the bathroom counter, her overnight bag on the floor by her feet. For a breathless instant, they stared at each other, frozen, and then he said her name, the single syllable little more than a rumble of sound in his throat as he dropped his duffle bag and reached for her.

She met him halfway, her body humming with need. Her heart pounded, her skin cried out for his touch, and the thought flitted through her mind that she'd never felt this kind of explosive urgency before. She couldn't get close enough, couldn't hold him tight enough. And when his lips came down on hers, she didn't even try to hold back the quiet, desperate moan that rose in her throat. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, pushed her fingers into his hair, and arched her back as his hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, his fingers splaying wide against her skin.

"I missed you," he murmured between kisses. "I never knew … Never realized how hard it would be …"

"I know," she said, exploring his jaw line and the curve of his neck, rough with the day's growth of beard. "I missed you, too."

They stumbled across the room, neither willing to let go, fingers fumbling at buttons and zippers, until they landed on the bed with more clumsiness than grace, eliciting a soft laugh from Mac that turned into a sigh when Harm trailed a line of hungry kisses across her collar-bone and kept on going.

Time blurred after that, melting wraith-like into the fading rays of sunlight that gilded the edges of the heavy drapes. Mac didn't notice its passage until it was almost too dark to see, her other senses more than making up for the loss of sight.

It was Harm who reached to turn on the lamp beside the bed as he pulled her into his arms a long time later. She rested against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, the tension in her shoulders and neck finally, blessedly, gone.

Mac didn't usually think of herself as the cuddling type, preferring time and space in which to recover after making love. But with Harm, it was different. With Harm, she needed to be close. Why? And would it ever not seem miraculous to lie with him like this? She hoped not. The feeling she had right now, this sense of absolute rightness, must never be allowed to fade.

She shifted and his arm tightened around her, keeping her snug against his side. Her lips curved into a smile. After all the years of push and pull, she'd all but given up hope of finding a workable middle ground with him. Now they were finally moving in the same direction, and if their luck held, pretty soon the last pieces of the puzzle would slide neatly into place.

But there were still a few things they needed to deal with.

"Harm." She rubbed her hand across his chest—firm, tight skin, and the brush of wiry hair against her palm. "We need to talk about Mattie."

She felt him tilt his head to look at her. "She's doing great, isn't she? She could be back in the air by fall."

Mac propped herself on her elbow. "She's scared, Harm. She thinks she's losing you."

Harm slid his hand down her back and then up again to rest against her shoulder blade. "Why would she think that?"

"Because of me."

There was a beat of silence. Then, "Oh." Another beat. "Did she say something?"

Mac shook her head. "I saw it in her eyes."

His hand shifted again, this time to capture a strand of her hair. He wrapped it around his finger. "Is that what you two were talking about?"

"Yeah." She pressed a kiss against the inside of his wrist and tasted the slight tang of salt.

"What exactly did she say?"

Another kiss, this time on his chin. "That she doesn't know how to be a family."

Harm's eyebrow shot up. "Ouch." He caught her head before she could move away.

"Yeah." It was barely more than a breath of air against his mouth.

"It's going to take some time, I guess." He dropped the words, scattershot, between kisses.

"Mmm." One last kiss, and she pulled back enough to look into his eyes. "For all of us."

He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, and Mac had a sudden memory of the night he'd asked her if she loved Mic. He'd touched her the same way that night. And he'd had the same look in his eyes.

"Are _you_ worried?" he asked in a low voice.

"A little." She lay back down, her arm settling across his stomach this time, his coming to rest around her shoulders. She put her leg over his and nestled close. God, he felt good.

"It's going to be okay, Mac."

Mac forced her mind back to the topic at hand. "You should talk to her."

"I will." He kissed the top of her head. A silent promise.

Beneath her ear, his stomach rumbled. "Somebody's hungry."

"Starving." Harm reached for his boxers. "What did you do with the food?"

"Bathroom counter." She snagged his shirt from the floor and pulled it around her shoulders. When she looked up, he was watching her, amused.

"The bathroom?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"What? I had other things on my mind!"

He shook his head and started across the room. Mac pushed herself up against the pillows and watched him. She loved the way he moved—muscles, joints, and bones working together in easy synchrony. It was like watching music. He snaked an arm around the corner of the bathroom and came up with the bag of food, turning back in time to catch her staring.

"What?"

"Just enjoying the view."

He flashed a grin as he came back and offered her the bag. "Chicken or beef?"

"Beef." She took the box and reached for a pair of chopsticks.

"I've been thinking," he said a few minutes later. He dropped the empty food box in the garbage can and wiped his hands on a napkin.

"About?"

"About resigning my commission." An easy toss dropped the napkin neatly on top of the box. Mac didn't miss the flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Harm, we talked about this." Mac set her food aside. "We agreed to give them some time to find one of us another billet." The coin toss had been a stupid idea, a fact General Cresswell had pointed out later in his typical brusque way. He'd suggested they look for other solutions before sacrificing a stellar career, and Harm and Mac had agreed. But time was dragging on, and with the military higher-ups apparently content with the status quo, it didn't look like a resolution was in sight any time soon.

"I'm tired of waiting, Mac, tired of putting our lives on hold for our careers."

"But the Navy _is_ your life!"

"_Was_ my life. _You're_ my life now. You and Mattie." He reached for her hand. "I can live without the Navy," he said, "but I'm tired of living without you."

Mac's throat constricted painfully. "That's—" He touched a finger to her lips, cutting her off mid-thought.

"Let me do this, Mac." The finger dropped away, leaving her feeling strangely bereft. "We'll find a place in San Diego, move Mattie out there …" His lips tilted in the crooked half-smile she'd fallen in love with all those years ago, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Mom and Frank will be thrilled."

"Doesn't it bother you to start all over?"

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "They say change is good for the soul."

Mac was a lawyer, experienced in detecting the slightest hint of deception, but by every indication, Harm was being completely honest. He truly intended to abandon the life he'd always known. And for what? For her? For Mattie? For the slim possibility that they might someday have children of their own? Did she want that responsibility? If she said no, what then? And wasn't it his decision to make? The questions tumbled over each other in her mind—a fuzzy-logic puzzle with no clear solution.

"Harm … I don't know."

He got off the bed and retrieved his duffle bag. Mac watched him, puzzled, as he rummaged inside, eventually giving a grunt of satisfaction. When he came back to her, he had something in his hand, but he didn't show her what it was right away. Instead, he sat down on the bed beside her, turning so that he could see her eyes.

"I want us to be a family, Mac." He held her gaze, his expression serious. She knew that look. It was the same one he got when he was convinced his client was innocent—and determined to prove it to her. "If the Navy is the price I have to pay in order for that to happen, I'm okay with it."

He seemed so certain. And in the end, it _was_ his decision. What right did she have to stand in the way? She pushed aside the nagging sense of unease and nodded.

"Good. Then that's settled." He leaned forward to kiss her, his lips soft against hers, his touch gentle at her nape. When he straightened, he was smiling.

"One more thing." He took her hand in his. "A small technicality." He turned her hand over, and she felt something cool and hard drop into her palm. He closed her fingers over it. "You never actually said 'yes'."

She uncurled her fingers to reveal a narrow gold band adorned with a simple round-cut diamond, elegant without being gaudy.

"Harm … It's beautiful." It slid easily onto her finger, settling into place as though it had been made for her. The man had done his research. Someday she'd have to ask him how he'd discovered her ring size without asking her.

"Well?" he asked.

She put her hand around his neck. The short hairs tickled her palm. "Yes," she said, and pulled him toward her.

 

********************

 

When they arrived at the rehab center late the following morning, Mattie's room was empty. A quick stop at the nurse's station garnered the news that Mattie hadn't yet returned from physical therapy. A helpful volunteer pointed them in the right direction, and a few minutes later they were standing outside the P.T. room. Mattie was inside. She looked sweaty and tired, but when she saw Harm and Mac she whispered a few words to her therapist and waved them in.

"Meet Hannah," Mattie said, with a saucy grin at a woman who wouldn't have seemed out of place in a Green Bay Packers uniform. "Part bulldog, part Satan, and part miracle-worker."

"Mattie ..." There was a note of censure in Harm's voice.

"It's okay," Hannah said cheerfully. "She's pretty much right." She stuck out a hand. "You must be Harm, the mysterious fighter pilot turned lawyer turned fighter pilot turned lawyer that I've been hearing so much about."

Harm shot Mattie a look as he shook Hannah's hand. "That would be me." He put his arm around Mac. "And this is my fiancée, Sarah MacKenzie."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." Hannah's handshake was firm, her palm calloused and strong. And she met Mac's gaze head on. Mac decided she liked her.

"Mattie's been waiting for you," Hannah said. "She has something she'd like to show you." She crossed to Mattie's side and dropped to a crouch beside the wheelchair. "Ready?"

Mattie took a deep breath, her gaze shifting from Harm to Mac and back again. "Yeah."

"All right, then. Let's get this show on the road." With a quick flick of the wrist Hannah spun Mattie around and headed across the room.

She stopped at a sturdy set of parallel bars, and Mac felt an eerie sense of déjà vu as she remembered a scene almost identical to this one. Only that time, it had been Bud in the wheelchair.

All business now, Hannah locked the wheels and walked around the apparatus, coming back between the bars to face Mattie head on.

"On three," she said softly.

Mattie nodded.

"One ... two ... three!"

It happened so fast, Mac almost missed it. One minute Mattie was sitting in the chair, her face a study in nervous anticipation, and the next she was up, her weight braced on her arms where they rested on the bars, her feet on the floor.

"Okay?" Hannah asked, ignoring Harm and Mac now, all of her attention on her patient.

"I ... think so."

"Right." Hannah nodded in satisfaction. "Let's show these two old folks what you're made of."

Mac glanced over at Harm. He was staring at Mattie, his fingers tightening almost painfully around Mac's, as if he might hold Mattie up by the force of his will alone. Mac squeezed his hand and turned her attention back to the drama unfolding before them.

Mattie bit her lip, sweat standing out on her brow as she pulled herself upright, testing her balance. Mac imagined she could see the battle being waged in Mattie's mind—faith and determination versus fear and doubt. _Come on, Mattie. You can do this_.

Mattie's eyes narrowed, her forehead crinkling with concentration as slowly, painstakingly, she slid her left foot three inches ahead of her right.

Hannah was there at once, catching her under the arms and easing her back into the wheelchair, a look of satisfaction on her face.

"Brava, Mattie," she said quietly. "Good job."

An instant later, Harm was on his knees at Mattie's side. He pulled her into his arms.

"You did it, Mattie!" His voice was rough with emotion. "You did it!"

"Not yet." Mattie's eyes gleamed with victory. She met Mac's gaze. "But I will."

Harm reached up to Mac, drawing her into the circle. Tears burned at the back of Mac's eyes as Mattie returned Mac's one-armed hug.

"So," Mattie said when Mac drew back, "when's the wedding?"

Harm glanced at Mac, a clear message in his eyes. _It's up to you_.

"Whenever you're ready," Mac said. She closed her hand around her engagement ring. She'd waited nine years for Harm. She could wait a little longer for Mattie. "After all, families should decide these things together, right?"

Mattie rewarded her with a brilliant smile.

"Right."


End file.
